Page 40 of Vicious Luna

He abruptly trails off, looking away and pushing up to his feet. Sidestepping to get out from underneath the shower spray, he pauses in hesitation for a moment before begrudgingly holding a hand out to me.

I reach for it, allowing him to pull me up. Not because I’m swooning over the gesture, but because my body still feels partially numb and I don’t trust myself to try to stand on my own just yet.

“You good?” he asks as I stumble slightly and slap a palm up against the shower wall to brace myself.

“I’mfine,” I grind out.

Cam nods sharply, backing out of the shower cubicle and turning to head for the door. My chest tightens as I watch after him, but instead of opening it and leaving again, he stops, turning around to lean his back against the door and take up his former post. He shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, eyes fixed on the screen as he starts scrolling. “Finish up, you’ve got two minutes,” he mumbles absently.

I bite my tongue against the urge to snap back at him, wanting to just get this over with so I can leave the bathroom. Pushing off from the wall, I step beneath the water and reach for the god awful three-in-one men’s soap to wash up with.

I’m still jittery from the residual effects of my panic attack, but I make quick work of getting clean, shutting off the water and stepping over to the sink to towel off. Then I get dressed and start tackling the tangles in my hair with the brush he provided.

All the while, Cam remains in his post by the door, silently scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even look up at me once, and I’m not sure why that bothers me so much.

19

“Where the hell did you learn how to do this?” I ask incredulously, clicking through the features of the new and improved surveillance system that Matty just put in front of me. I mentioned a few days ago that it’d been glitchy lately, and he offered to ‘play around’ with some options to improve it if I sent him a copy of the current code. I sure as shit didn’t expect him to whip up something likethis, though.

Matty shrugs, smiling bashfully. “I’ve always been kinda good with computers.”

I shake my head in disbelief, still marveling at the quality of work he did in such little time. “You’ve been holding out on us, kid,” I remark. “This is genius level shit.”

He rolls his eyes, dropping down onto the stool beside me at the kitchen island. “I probably would’ve gone into a career in IT or something, if I’d had any choice in it. But my only two options were the military or The Guild, so…” he trails off, shrugging again.

“Well I’m definitely impressed,” I murmur, clicking between the feeds and finding crystal-clear video footage on each one. “This streaming quality is top notch.”

“Just had to play with the compression algorithm,” he replies nonchalantly.

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“To me, it is.”

I dart him a glance, shaking my head again. “Well shit, I would’ve put you to work sooner if I’d known your skills. You’ll have to walk me through how you did this so I can take notes.”

“Yeah, anytime,” he agrees, sliding off his stool. He grabs both of our empty coffee mugs off the kitchen island, carrying them around to the counter on the other side. “Want a refill?” he asks as he sets them down, lifting the pot from the machine.

I glance up at him, nodding, then immediately refocus on my computer screen again, familiarizing myself with how to navigate the updated program. I might’ve been exaggerating slightly when I mentioned that the existing program had been glitchy. Truthfully, I’d been getting annoyed at how grainy the footage would turn after having it open for a while, since I’m still obsessively watching Luna in her cell around the clock. Even more now, after her escape attempt.

“How you usually like it?” Matty asks, and I flicker my gaze up to him again as he lifts my coffee cup, nodding to indicate the liquor cabinet.

“Nah, just the coffee,” I mutter discontentedly.

I’m aiming to stay sober this morning, and it’s not a pleasant experience. My head is fucking pounding. According to WebMD, having a severe, persistent headache like this probably means that I’m dying of a brain tumor or something and should seek immediate care. If that’s true, then it’s probably too late for me already- I should just leave all this behind and go somewhere to get wasted and try to enjoy the days I have left- but my dad asked to have a meeting this morning, and I need to keep a clear head for it.

Well, as clear as itcanbe with this constant throbbing inmy skull.

Matty brings my fresh cup of coffee over, setting it down beside me as he leans in and drops his voice low. “Hey, just a heads up, apparently Griff has been complaining about you to some of the other guys. Says you’re on a power trip.”

I snap my laptop shut and push up from my stool. “He can say whatever the fuck he wants, so long as he keeps in line,” I grumble. With a nod to Matty, I slide my computer under my arm, pick up the mug, and head out of the kitchen and down the hall to the office at the front of the cabin.

Most of The Guild’s safehouses have an office, though we rarely use them for anything other than the occasional meeting. I enter to find my father sitting behind the desk with his feet kicked up on the wooden surface, busy on his phone. Come to think of it, he’s been on his phone more often than not lately, and something about it doesn’t sit quite right with me. It feels like he’s hiding something.

Dad doesn’t even look up as he nods to the seat across from him, and I sink down into the soft leather-upholstered chair, watching as he finishes typing something on his phone before he places it face-down on the desk in front of him and turns his attention to me. “Is there something you forgot to mention when we caught up on business last night?”

I fight back a wince, keeping my expression neutral. It was only a matter of time before he found out about Luna’s prison break, but I probably should’ve been the one to tell him. The benefit of hindsight, I guess.

“If you’re referring to the Luna’s little escape attempt, I had it handled,” I say nonchalantly, leaning back in my chair and kicking up an ankle to rest on my opposite knee.

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